LORD GORING. That will do. [_Exit_ PHIPPS.] Lady Chiltern’s handwriting on Lady Chiltern’s pink notepaper. That is rather curious. I thought Robert was to write. Wonder what Lady Chiltern has got to say to me? [_Sits at bureau and opens letter_, _and reads it_.] ‘I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.’ [_Puts down the letter with a puzzled look_. _Then takes it up_, _and reads it again slowly_.] ‘I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you.’ So she has found out everything! Poor woman! Poor woman! [ _Pulls out watch and looks at it_.] But what an hour to call! Ten o’clock! I shall have to give up going to the Berkshires. However, it is always nice to be expected, and not to arrive. I am not expected at the Bachelors’, so I shall certainly go there. Well, I will make her stand by her husband. That is the only thing for her to do. That is the only thing for any woman to do. It is the growth of the moral sense in women that makes marriage such a hopeless, one-sided institution. Ten o’clock. She should be here soon. I must tell Phipps I am not in to any one else. [_Goes towards bell_.] [_Enter_ PHIPPS.] PHIPPS. Lord Caversham. LORD GORING. Oh, why will parents always appear at the wrong time? Some extraordinary mistake in nature, I suppose. [_Enter_ LORD CAVERSHAM.] Delighted to see you, my dear father. [_Goes to meet him_.] LORD CAVERSHAM. Take my cloak off. LORD GORING. Is it worth while, father? LORD CAVERSHAM. Of course it is worth while, sir. Which is the most comfortable chair? LORD GORING. This one, father. It is the chair I use myself, when I have visitors. LORD CAVERSHAM. Thank ye. No draught, I hope, in this room? LORD GORING. No, father. LORD CAVERSHAM. [_Sitting down_.] Glad to hear it. Can’t stand draughts. No draughts at home. LORD GORING. Good many breezes, father. LORD CAVERSHAM. Eh? Eh? Don’t understand what you mean. Want to have a serious conversation with you, sir. LORD GORING. My dear father! At this hour? LORD CAVERSHAM. Well, sir, it is only ten o’clock. What is your objection to the hour? I think the hour is an admirable hour! LORD GORING. Well, the fact is, father, this is not my day for talking seriously. I am very sorry, but it is not my day. LORD CAVERSHAM. What do you mean, sir? LORD GORING. During the Season, father, I only talk seriously on the first Tuesday in every month, from four to seven. LORD CAVERSHAM. Well, make it Tuesday, sir, make it Tuesday. LORD GORING. But it is after seven, father, and my doctor says I must not have any serious conversation after seven. It makes me talk in my sleep. LORD CAVERSHAM. Talk in your sleep, sir? What does that matter? You are not married. LORD GORING. No, father, I am not married.